


The Songbird of Jamestown Ch.2

by VasaliaTheWise



Series: The Songbird of Jamestown [2]
Category: Jamestown (TV)
Genre: 17th Century, Angst, Attempts at historical accuracy, Books, But Reader is a frickin' sweetheart, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, English Folk Songs, F/M, Fluff, Girl Power, Gwylim Lee - Freeform, Gwylim ee, Gwylm Lee- Characters, History, Hurt/Comfort, I DO NOT SHOW THE SCENE OF THE ATTACK, Jamestown - Freeform, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Plenty Of References, Samuel Castell - Freeform, Slow Burn, Virginia, colonial history, so if you want to read something, this is the fic for you, where you are a literal angel and bad bisch at once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 07:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21472447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VasaliaTheWise/pseuds/VasaliaTheWise
Summary: Thank you for reading and any feedback and kudos is appreciated!!This is huge, but This chapter deals with the canon abuse and rape of Alice Kett. I do not portray the scene of the attack, only the aftermath. I debated whether or not to include the detail of her sexual assault or ignore it and chose to portray it. I tried to tread as carefully as I could and portray her reaction and trauma realistically more than the show does. Although there will still be our story with Reader and Samuel, I couldn’t add in the attack to just use to develop their characters. Alice deserved more serious focus on her pain and to grieve and heal in her own arc. So please enjoy Alice getting some justice here and having her time in the spotlight (and not just from the men in her life)!
Relationships: Alice Kett/Silas Sharrow, Samuel Castell/Reader, Samuel Castell/You
Series: The Songbird of Jamestown [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1527899
Kudos: 1





	The Songbird of Jamestown Ch.2

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and any feedback and kudos is appreciated!!  
This is huge, but This chapter deals with the canon abuse and rape of Alice Kett. I do not portray the scene of the attack, only the aftermath. I debated whether or not to include the detail of her sexual assault or ignore it and chose to portray it. I tried to tread as carefully as I could and portray her reaction and trauma realistically more than the show does. Although there will still be our story with Reader and Samuel, I couldn’t add in the attack to just use to develop their characters. Alice deserved more serious focus on her pain and to grieve and heal in her own arc. So please enjoy Alice getting some justice here and having her time in the spotlight (and not just from the men in her life)!

Everyone in Jamestown had a choice: either go to church twice a day or be denied food rations after the first skip. After the second it was the galleys. And many people were hungry.

It was hard to pay attention to the service. The sermon seemed dry and repetitive. What made it even worse was that right in front of you was Jocelyn and Samuel.

You felt a bit of warmth from the sunlight bleed through the windows on your cheek. You sighed as it made the little building a little stuffy.

You should be reeling with the newness. You already received your plot of land. Neighbors had been more than generous. They donated spare chickens and goats to run in your yard. They gave you a few bags of seeds. One old man even dropped by a small pot of a thick soup he called Pottage as your first dinner home.

But every day you had to see every person in the colony at the church services. As you began to walk in, Jocelyn speeded through, wearing her snug blue dress this morning and her tallest hat.

“I enter first” she spat at you, glaring at how wrinkled your apron had become.

You sat beside and found to your horror the only seat available was right behind Samuel. And Jocelyn’s spot was saved next to him.

The sermon could have been a story. Something to give pictures in your mind to distract you. But instead, it was on the ten commandments and how they must be observed each day.

Looking at them felt like gazing at something that would make you drop dead, and yet you kept staring anyway, almost transfixed.

There was an odd air of discomfort and awkwardness between them. Samuel would look upon the altar and listen.

Most of the time.

But sometimes he would try to playfully tap Jocelyn’s foot or give her a smile. She never responded. If anything, she kept very quiet and still. She hardly gave him as much as more than a glance in his direction. If not, her eyes were focused constantly on other men in the corner. Especially the new Governor in the front, almost nodding asleep.

The minister brought his voice up. “We pray we have the strength to keep your commandments- in our hearts, have we not committed murder?” he intoned.

Jocelyn played her part well and her whole body was still as a cat about to pounce.

“Have we not committed adultery in our hearts? Have we not looked upon another with lust? Have we not covet that which is our neighbors?”

You looked down on your feet. Your shoes had gotten a little muddy. If only you could sew faster or a shipment of clothes would come in, then I could at least keep Jocelyn’s glaring eyes at bay.

It was a lovely, small church. It had simple grey beams, a low ceiling (Samuel always seemed must duck over when he walked in through the door) and nice, clean brown wood. It should have felt like an escape but now it felt like a dungeon used for torture.

But it was only the first service. One could become desensitized to torture.

The minister’s voice grew as soft as a bird’s chirrup “But yet, we must not give in. We must consider others before our own souls, then we can find joy in keeping our commandments.”

You felt grieved that any spiritual peace was robbed by your own selfishness.

Even sinfulness.

After all, how were you no better than an adulteress? How was becoming bitter and jealous making you any better than the murderer before you?

You stayed for a while to sit and think while everyone got up. Samuel noticed you and beamed a smile as a hello. You returned it.

Guilt swallowed me whole and you stayed glued to your seat, whispering silent prayers, begging to remove such feelings from me as people walked out.

The minister was about to leave when he glanced at you with wide, dark eyes. He tilted his pale, plump head.

“Miss, do you need help?” he asked thoughtfully.

You shook your head and ran out.

My time of worship was ruined, you thought bitterly. The sun was making the air warm in the afternoon. Green trees popped their bushy heads over the walls of the fortress.

You remembered your church at home. Prayers felt genuine, the congregation gave you gifts of small apricots and best of the all-the choir! The organ! It melted down and washed one around to where people sobbed. Such emotion built up could finally release and such beauty made them hear and even see the divine.

A little of one certain hymn floated back to you. As you approached your small house in the heart of town, you began humming it softly. A way to release your fears privately. A way to earn some hope and peace when the offers of hope and peace earlier were spoiled.

The words were even coming back and you were singing them quietly as you approached your door.

“I knew I heard you!” someone spoke hoarsely.

Alice was there, crouching almost behind the corner of your house.

“Alice! Hello! What old biddy gossip do you have?” you greeted.

She stepped forward and your warmth dropped. Her face was drained of color. Her usual smile was gone. Her hair was disheveled and the most shocking of all was that her eyes were wide with fear and one hand was almost clenching the right side of her face.

She was not here to “be an old biddy.”

“Y/N…I…I thought…. I’d never see you again!” she began. Tears began to well up in her eyes and her face contorted.

“Alice! Why…. Alice…what have?” you began.

“Let’s go inside, please!” she begged. Alice kept looking back at the town with terror.

You hurried inside with her and immediately locked the door.

“Alice, what is it?” you asked. You put one hand to her free arm and the other to her cupped cheek. You leaned forward and tried to speak as softly as you could.

“I…I knew I was…engaged to a man named Henry Sharrow…and the man I saw when I left that ship he…was so kind and handsome and good” she blubbered. She was so scared, she began pacing and grabbing onto her arms.

“Henry?”

“That gentleman was not Henry, it was his brother, Silas, and Henry…. when I met him…he… and he…he…”

She began the most furious, ugly sobs and collapsed on the floor. Her back was shaking. You noticed there were even red marks around her arm that looked nothing like a sunburn.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s alright,” you said tenderly, getting down on the floor to meet her level.

You began soothing her long, wavy brown hair in comfort. I slowly began pushing it away from her face so you could look at her.

“I’m here, things will be better. He may not have been who you wanted, but you can learn to love him…” you suggested.

That monologue froze when you noticed there was a large bruise on her right cheek.

You looked at the mark, and then her. Silence surrounded you for a minute.

You helped her up and led her to the small bed you had in the very back of your cottage and sat her down. You sat down beside her and put both arms across from her shoulders.

“And that wasn’t the worst…” Alice confessed.

You felt bile in your mouth.

“What else has he done?” you asked.

She was quiet, her entire body was shaking. She struggled to get it out.

“I…I can still feel him on me…in me…” she blurted.

Nothing more needed to be said.

You fetched her some water and tucked her in.

“I can’t sleep…I still haven’t slept…” she insisted. But she didn’t push away the brown blanket on her lap nor the small tin cup in her hand.

“You need to rest. Is there anything else you need? Do you want to talk about it more?” you asked.

She was quiet, sipping the tepid water.

“When was the last time you had eaten?”

“I…I cannot remember…I haven’t eaten since the dinner…” she muttered.

She shook her head and threw the cup to the floor with a CLANG. Water pooled out under the table.

“I don’t deserve it! I’m a whore. I deserve…I deserve to starve to death!” she said sadly, clutching the blankets.

“No, Alice, you don’t deserve that! You’re going to live! You’re going to show all of them by surviving!” you insisted.

You remembered the pot of Pottage It still sat over the little fireplace, cool, and thick as oatmeal. You poured a little out on a wooden bowl, grabbed a spoon, and put it in her hands.

“I won’t leave your side until you have two bites of this. And if you throw it, I’ll get another. I’ll make more from scratch if I must” you said.

She at first nibbled at the spoon. Then Alice swallowed it whole. Then she asked for water and drowned it in two gulps.

“Stay here and rest, Alice. I swear to you, I’ll keep you safe…” you pledge, taking her free hand.

She turned around to face away from you as she laid down, crying so hard her back kept heaving. Then she was quiet and her back heaved far more slowly.

“She’s asleep now. Deep too. She’ll still be there” you convinced yourself.

You had left out to start watering and planting a few lumps where seeds were dropped. It was now afternoon in the colony, and it was buzzing with activity. Women starting their shopping in the marketplace with gossip on their pursed lips. A mustachioed farmer began gathering chickens that had run loose. Laundry was being hung up to dry like ghosts outside every house. Impressively passing by was a whole crew of gentlemen from the main building, perhaps taking a break from their work to eat.

You noticed two men were storming your way. One was thickly built with dirty blonde hair kept loose and a beard. His eyes were squinting and beady. The other one had a curly brown mop and was rather tall. Both had tanned skin and wore shirts and vests that seemed light and dirty.

The blonde one almost ran up to you in a fury. His nostrils flared like a bull.

“Where is she? Where is my wife?!” he growled at you.

You froze, scared and unsure of what to do.

“Don’t lie to me! Don’t you know the laws on false witness here?” he yelled roughly.

You shook your head, with as much wide-eyed innocence as you could muster to gain some sympathy for him.

He understood but felt nothing.

“Death! If you lie, you are put to death here! Is Alice in your house!?”

You stood my ground and stepped forward.

“Yes, she is indeed here” you confirmed.

“Bring me to her” he demanded, pointing at the door.

You took a deep breath. His hands seemed raised as if ready to strike.

“Sir, this is my property. And as it is mine, you are not welcome on it” you answer. Your breath catches and you feel your heart pound with fear.  
He blinked. People from the town turned their heads in amusement and curiosity. Besides, he was yelling for half the colony to hear. Some of the gentlemen group began to light pipes and smoke in fascination.

“Why you…let me in” he demanded rudely.

You raise your arms, blocking the door. At least if he hit you or killed you, there would be witnesses and he could go to prison.

“I would let Judas Iscariot himself walk through my door before you! This is my land, and you are not welcome! You are trespassing!” you begin.

His arms raise up as if ready to punch you, and you back him away from the building, trying not to flinch from them.

“You lost every right to enter here for what you have done to her!” you threaten quietly.

He lowered his own arms, still gripping his fists.

“She is my wife and my property! We’re in debt thanks to her!”

“You are not even married yet! Tell me, was there a ceremony yesterday or were you asleep during it?”

He growled and shook his pointer finger at you. “Where is your husband! He ought to teach you manners!”

“I have none! So leave! If you had been taught manners, perhaps you would have been a husband by now! And yet Alice is crying and shaking and fears the steps you take! If you had proven yourself a good man, she would have gladly submitted. And yet you betrayed her!” you say, raising your voice.

“She is mine to treat as I see fit!”

“Is beating her legal? I will take this to the Governor if I must!”

He turned to notice the politicians had gathered closer to watch. And Samuel was with them. 

He stepped forward calmly, hands up in near defense. 

“Mister Sharrow, I’m afraid it is true. This is legally the lady’s property. She can do as she sees fit with it. If you cannot enter it, you cannot enter it. When do you marry?” he inquired.

“A week” Henry spat.

“Then until the week is done, there’s nothing we can do.” Samuel reasoned.

Henry glared back at you. You thought he might burst into the house, swing Alice over his back, and run. Yet he paused. He spat on the ground and heaved off, shoving everyone who got in his way.

The man with darker hair looked at you. It had to be the brother Alice mentioned. He was definitely a dark Adonis. She has good taste then. 

His eyes softened, then he walked up to you and said “Thank you” quietly before hurrying after his brother.

The gentlemen began to depart, chattering with the excitement, but Samuel came up to you.

“Jocelyn said you were always quiet” he praised, a little shocked.

You felt your vision go a little dizzy with relief.

“I…I speak when I have to, Master Castell. And Alice is a dear friend of mine. She…she was…” you felt a bit of long denied emotion catch up in your throat.

“She was…. hurt by Henry. He had beaten her and I…I think he may have…”  
You hesitate and look down on the ground so you would not see his reaction.

“He…raped her. She ran to me, terrified. Please, don’t think she led him on. She’s nothing like what they say of farm girls. I just….” You recalled. You felt a stifled sob come out of you.

Samuel found a small handkerchief in his pocket and handed it to you. You nodded as thanks and wiped your face with embarrassment.

“And she is indeed inside?” he queried.

“Sleeping.”

“May I call when she awakes. Perhaps in the evening after church?”

“Of course.”

The church service in the evening felt more terrifying than awkward. Alice had to be in a room again with that monster. She clung onto her skirts and looked on the floor. Sometimes, she would cling onto your skirt too, like an infant reaching for a kind parent. You would take her hand and pray softly for her peace of mind, just enough for her to hear.

Once everyone intoned a last “Amen” Jocelyn curtsied her goodbye to Samuel and flounced outside to speak with the group of politicians that had hurried there.

You thought you saw Henry begin to walk towards her. But Samuel moved forward as fast as a cat. His cape blocked Henry’s face.

“May I walk you ladies’ home? It seems a shame for you both to go about unaccompanied,” he offered gallantly.

You strung Alice’s limp arm around your own.

“Well, of course!” you replied with false cheer.

He hovered around the two of you as you both quickly headed for your house. Once it was in view, Alice broke off from you. She ran inside and shut the door.

“Two things before I leave, Miss,” Samuel said. He turned around and gazed you

“If Alice needs any protection, tell me that I am her ally. Wife beating at least sends a man to the stocks” he said.

“Thank you very much, Master Castell. That is very generous of you” you replied softly.

“Oh, and Miss. I remembered your books and I wondered if…if you have this?” he asked.  
He pulled out a red book, bound by leather. He opened it to reveal that it was a collection of Spenser’s poetry, including the famous The Faerie Queene.

“I…I’ve never read it!” you gasp.

“Since you enjoy myths, I thought you might like it.”

“Oh no, I cannot take this!”

“Feel no shame, Miss! I have plenty at home. You can always return it when you are finished.”

“Why then…I’ll accept it. Thank you! You have been very kind to…to us today” you say, smiling at the smell of the paper.

The sun dipped and it became night. Alice could only pace or start talking worriedly.

“I’ll sleep on the floor tonight” you offer, slipping off your outer clothes into your shift.

Alice shook her brown head.

“I can’t sleep. I know I won’t sleep” she answered.

You pulled out the new book, reading it. Alice kept fidgety. She had to tap her foot anxiously until you gave her a skirt to mend. You both sat on the table, reading of knights, magic, powerful women, and adventures on one hand, and Alice quietly staring at the green skirt with a large rip on the other. You handed over a small needle and black thread.

Once she began her sewing, you could begin again and read. Crickets chirruped and it felt cooler. You tried your best to stop your head from drooping down.

“There are so many characters!” Alice sighed. “I can’t remember any names.”

You smiled a bit, Alice finally seeming distracted. You sat upon the chair and set down the book, shaking your hands from gripping it.

“Could you read some more? Or start from the beginning so I can remember their names again?” Alice asked.

“Alice, I want to but…my throat is dry…” you confess.

“May I read it? You may have your bed back…”

“I can’t let you sleep on the floor!” you insist.

“I’ll be fine, just save a spot for me, okay?”

“I’ll try to curl as tight as I can.”

“I’m rather skinny, I’m sure I can fit around you to sleep” Alice assured.

At peace, you drifted off once you laid down on the cot. All you could see was the single candle on the table and Alice’s face dried from tear stains and absorbed in the book. Her eyes were wide, but not with fright. Only fascination.

When you woke up, Alice was curled up in a ball in the other corner of the opposite side of the bed. Her bare feet dangled inches away from your face. It must have been awkward to decide she was done and then must stand upon the straw mattress and tiptoe around to find a corner of her own.

It was still morning and she seemed heavy in sleep. The book itself was still wide open to where she left it.

This would all last only a week. Her wedding would, eventually, come.

Would you be able to still protect her? Or would the fact that she was now chained to be sacrificed to this monster be enough an excuse for him to separate you both forever? Never to even look at each other.

It was enough to make your stomach turn. You dressed and walked to the door to get some air before it could overtake you.

A glowing sunrise kissed your face and you smiled gratefully. The whole building looked a little dark and worse for wear. You wondered if you could go somewhere and gather flowers to cheer her up. Although wildflowers would be favorable, it would be best not to stray too far from the house alone. Henry might take your absence to his advantage.

Some flowers were growing right outside on a patch of grass near your house. They were small, purple, and fragile. So small yet blooming strongly. They pointed to the sun almost, stretching to feed in the light.

You bent down and begin gathering them. An old song came back to you and alone, you sang it softly

“Alas, my love, you do me wrong

To cast me off discourteously;

And I have loved you oh so long

Delighting in your company.

Greensleeves was my delight,

Greensleeves my heart of gold

Greensleeves was my heart of joy

And who but my lady Greensleeves.”

“I thought that was no bird!”

You looked up and jumped at first. The dirt and grime of the face and thickness of his chest brought you to your feet, thinking it was Henry. But the face was clean shaved, and the dirtied apron told a different story.

“Sir, who are you? You gave me a fright!”

“I am sorry, I mean no harm miss. My name is James, James Reed.”

You gave him your name.

“Miss Y/L/N, may I ask, the last I remember seeing Miss Kett, she was with you at church. Where is she now? I heard she is residing with you.”

“Yes…yes she is” you confirmed.

He seemed trustworthy. His voice was not malicious, and his eyes were soft.

“May I see her, please?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.  
“She is fast asleep. She has…had trouble with her betrothed. So, she is living with me at least until…until her wedding” you answer.

He looked down and sighed a little at the word “wedding.”

“I understand. But…I have…I only wondered how she was faring?”

You squeezed your fists a little. How much could you give away? Alice may become mad that Samuel knew, after all. But it had overwhelmed you so much then, you were like a jug with too much water. Something had to spill. Now your jug was half-full. There was room to spare for grief, but not here.

“If you are concerned about her, you must know her heart is very troubled and grieved. She came to me weeping and blubbering. I do not wish to disclose why yet…you may ask her if you like. But I only want her to rest and be looked after. And I cannot leave her side or stray too far, for her protection” you state, looking right into his eyes and fiddling with the stems of the flowers.

“I understand. Miss Y/L/N, you have a good heart. Perhaps if it is too good, it may land you into trouble…” he says.

He rubs his bearded chin. He turned his shoulders to start leaving but paused and looked back at you.

“Once she wakes, tell her…tell her to see me. I have a gift for her. I think it will help her with her new farm, a lot” he asks.

“Mr. Read, I will.”

“You complain of good hearts, but you cannot be rid of your own, sir!” You think as he walks off.

Left alone, you look at the work to be done. There are only two goats to milk and several chickens to gather eggs. Might as well get started before the church bells ring.

As you return inside, Alice is awake but quiet. She turned once to see you wander in, her bright eyes dull, and then her brown mop turns away to the wall. 

“Good morning” you greet her.

Walking up slowly, you show her the flowers in your fist. They’re small and stubby as their small, round leaves and purple color could rival any rose

She does not respond.

“I have these wildflowers for you” you add.

Alice keeps her face turned away.

“Thank you, Y/N. Put them on the table” she requests.

Setting them as if they were porcelain, you place them on the cover of the book of Spenser poetry. One page has been folded in close to the middle and it wasn’t your finger that bent it. 

“Today, you may stay in bed as long as you’d like. You’re free to be a sloth here, Alice. Except for church, of course,” you suggest. “You need to keep eating, after all. And it’s not worth a trip to the galleys.”

Alice turned over. She nodded with a slight, childish bob.

“I’ll be right outside if you need anything. Henry isn’t allowed here…and he knows it. If he trespasses, it means he’ll be the one sent to the galleys. You’re safe in my house” you inform.

Alice only looks at you blankly. A little smile creaks on her lips once you the word “galleys” comes out.

You look over to the rightmost corner of the house and grab the small basket of ripped clothes. Then you go to your chest and pocket a needle and a small spool of black thread.

One step outside and you were already alerted with another sudden “good morning!”

You jump and drop the basket of clothes. Looking up, Samuel stares at the laundry with a dropped jaw

“Oh, dearest pardon! I didn’t mean to frighten you!” he apologizes, bowing his head down and frowning.

“Oh no, no, Samuel, you didn’t frighten me, you just surprised me!”

As you lean down to start picking it up, you notice he has bent his knees too and had gathered the skirts in the straw basket before handing it back.

“I was just wanting to do some sewing outside…” you claim, turning a little pink.

You notice his cape is quite resplendent and clean. Glancing down at the skirts on top of the basket, there is grime smeared in streaks.

“And perhaps washing…” you add on, head drooped to the ground.

“Do you have water for washing?” he asked.

“Well, no, but I…I will do it later, I suppose. I don’t feel safe leaving this place yet with Henry still…I just don’t want to leave Alice.”

“You may stay here. Allow me to fetch some water for you!”

“Oh no, Samuel! You cannot!”

“Well, we must both protect Alice. And the buckets are sometimes heavy- stay here and rest and I’ll come back posthaste!”

He dashed off. You sit on a small stump outside your house and start to mend nervously.

Was this really happening?

Sure enough, Samuel returned with a bucket full of water. It was almost unreal to see his clean hands holding the rough rope. He gently set it by the door.

“Why…why thank you…” you mutter. “You’re very kind, Master Castell.”

“May I help your mending, Miss Y/L/N? ”

“You can.”

He remained standing and helped to hold out the red skirt as you finished fixing the tear.  
“Sir, I have never seen a gentleman of your station take such interest in work.”

He gives a slight shrug and looks down at where the stitches had been tightened.

“When I first arrived here, I had no abilities to survive. People say I am lucky but so many of us were jeered for not even knowing how to plant a seed. And rightfully so. Since then, I try to help however I can.”

He looks over thoughtfully at the little crops and animals mucking about, baaing and crowing.

“What of you, Miss Y/L/N? How do you find life in our colony?”

“Different. Different and freeing, Master Castell. I have my own home. I have food. I have no betrothal. I can do as I please for once. It’s not easy, but I could fare worse.”

“It was very hard here when we landed. More people died than you can count. One winter we ran out of food, some men had to boil boots just to eat.

“Boots? It must have been a winter of blue feet then!”

He laughed slightly and you looked up into his face smiled.

“You hardly had a day in December without someone falling ill” he continued.

“I guess I should flee the colony when I can, but I guess there’s no better chance of falling sick in England, though” you comment.

You fold up the skirt and place it in the basket on the ground

“Well, there’s the doctor here. Christopher Priestly. He’s a genius and a dear friend of mine. If you have the slightest cough, he would relieve it at once…”

He recalled something and went down into his pockets. He pulled out a small jar of green leaves.

“This was why I was here. This is Lemon balm, for Alice.”

You stood up from the stump and took it. The scent was pleasing and fresh.

“Christopher says it’s good for healing melancholy. It tastes very good in wine as well” he boasted.

You look back up at him and embrace the jar with both arms.

“Master Castell…thank you…this will mean a lot to her. I…I should give you something as well!”

“Oh no, Miss, you don’t have to” he insists, shaking his head.

“But I remember when I arrived you said you never read the Metamorphoses! I’ve already finished it long ago- I’ll let you borrow it as thanks!”

“Well, that’s too tempting to refuse!” he answers.

The word tempt makes a slight heat crawl up on your cheeks. You hurry inside, much to Alice’s slight confusion. You grabbed The Metamorphoses on the corner of the table and fled out.

“Here you are!”

He took it gently and caressed it like you with the lemon balm.

“And send Dr. Priestly my deepest thanks. She’s adored your book while she has been here, by the by. Between your books and his lemon balm, sweet Alice will be smiling again someday.”

“Of course, Christopher has the soul of a Samaritan. He was initially going to be my groomsman for the wedding, but Jocelyn keeps refusing such notions” he said.

Heart sinking, you tried to be polite and bite back any envy.

“Who will be your groomsman then?” you ask.

“Jocelyn wishes it to be Governor Yeardly.”

“Really!? He’s hardly had a week here and now he must be groomsmen to a stranger!”  
“Jocelyn knows him and if that is what she wishes, that is what she wishes. But I must speak to Christopher about such matters. Perhaps some compromise may be done so we can both be happy.”

“But it is your groomsman. I don’t know much about weddings, but it seems the bride does so much. It’s truly a celebration of two, not one. Shouldn’t the bridegroom have a little bit of a say at least in his own wedding party?”

His smile grew bigger and his eyes softened.

“You have splendid ideas, Miss. I will have to see how Dr. Priestly fares them. I’d do anything to make my wife here happy…”

The words “my wife” strikes like a dagger. You turn your eyes away for a bit and notice some more purple flowers are growing on the ground by his feet.

“Master Castell…how far outside the colony can one roam?” you ask, trying to change the subject.

“I keep thinking my house would look better with a few more flowers…especially for Alice. But only a few wildflowers grow here, and it seems flower seeds are few and expensive” you say.

“If you walk out here only a few feet, there are plenty of wildflowers, Miss. It will be perfectly safe too. You could dash in at any sign of trouble. You could pick to your heart’s content.”  
Thank you, Master Castell. I’ll look in an hour when Henry must be busy.”

“I must tell you Farmers usually work sunup to sundown. Anytime would be safe.”

“Sam…Master Castell” you start, toes curling at the slip “I must confess I was not looking forward to my arrival. But it is good folk like you who have made it worthwhile.”

He steps a little closer to you and offers one hand. You accept it shyly.

“It is my deepest pleasure to serve, Miss Y/L/N,” he said.

He bends down to kiss your hand. His lips are soft and his beard barely grazes your skin. You quietly savored it.

“I will see you in church. Goodbye for now.”

He genuflected and walked off. His green cape flutters like a butterfly after his steps.

You tried not to get too excited at that it was “you” and not “you and Alice.” He was only being polite. That was how he was raised.

Now there was another wedding to wait upon with dread.


End file.
